


Angel Grooming 101

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dry Humping, Explicit Language, F/M, grace!kink, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 16:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16876425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: Samandriel has a favor to ask of the reader





	Angel Grooming 101

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr

“Um, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Samandriel’s voice called from your doorway. You looked up from your book to see the angel hovering at your bedroom door, his hands twisting nervously. He shuffled from side to side, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Sure, come in,” you replied warmly, setting down your book on the bedside table. Ever since he’d come to stay at the bunker, on the run from both Heaven and Hell, you’d taken a special interest in the sweet natured angel. You were the one to help him through his flashbacks of Crowley’s torture, patiently reminding him that he was safe. He’d attached himself to you, preferring your company to the Winchesters, or even Cas. You were fond of him, and seeing him acting so skittish had you concerned.

He stepped inside, quietly shutting the door behind him. Taking a tentative step forward to stand awkwardly at the foot of the bed, he still wouldn’t meet your eyes, opening and shutting his mouth several times without saying anything. A tiny frown crossed your face; something serious was troubling your friend, and you were determined to find out what.

You sat up and patted the bed beside you, a silent invitation. Samandriel lowered himself gingerly to sit next to you, spine rigid and hands twisting restlessly. With a sigh, you reached over to take his hands in yours, thumbs rubbing little circles across his knuckles. At your touch, he seemed to relax, his body losing the tense pose. You waited for him to speak, thinking that maybe he’d had another episode. His next words surprised you.

“I must ask a greater favor of you than I ever have before,” he mumbled.

“Oh?” Intrigued by what it could be, you knew whatever it was had to be important to him. “Of course Samandriel, whatever you need.”

“Thank you for your generosity, and your kindness. It means a great deal to me, as does your friendship. What I ask of you is a personal matter, one I can only trust to you,” he replied. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “It’s my wings.”

“Your wings,” you repeated, caught off guard. Whatever you’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. “What about them?”

“The old feathers are shedding and the new ones are growing in to replace them. I believe humans call it ‘molting season’” he murmured softly. “It’s a very uncomfortable process and normally angels help groom each other to ease the discomfort. I thought I could ask you…” he trailed off uncertainly.

Your eyes widened. No wonder he’d been nervous to ask you; from the sound of it, this was something angels only trusted to other angels. The fact that he trusted you enough to ask your help instead of Cas had your heart beating a little faster. Cupping one of his cheeks, you turned his head toward you, smiling at the hopeful look on his face. “Samandriel, I’d be happy to help. I told you- whatever you need. Just tell me what to do.”

He gave you a warm smile, previous nervousness gone. Placing a hand over the one you held against his cheek, he leaned into the touch. Earnest blue eyes bore into yours as though he could see into your soul. Which- when you thought about it- was probably the case. “Thank you for being so kind to me. Your companionship is a source of great happiness.”

Returning his smile, you replied, “To me too Samandriel. I’m glad you can trust me with this. Now- what do I have to do? This is kind of a new thing for me.”

He released your hand, moving to stand in front of you. “It’s not that difficult. Just straighten any feathers that may be crooked and pull any of the loose ones free.” Seeing the frown on your face, he cut you off before you could protest. “It won’t hurt me. Think of it as a human shedding hair.”

“Okay, if you’re sure…” you responded uncertainly. “But you tell me if it does, alright?” The last thing you wanted was to do anything to cause him more pain. He’d already suffered enough.

His eyes got impossibly softer, staring at you as if you might vanish if he glanced away. “As you wish,” he murmured. “Close your eyes.”

You did as requested, squeezing them tight. Even behind your shut lids, you could see a blinding cast of white light up the room for a moment, gradually fading away. Samandriel called your name quietly, signaling that it was okay to open them.

It was impossible to stifle a gasp when you saw his wings for the first time. They were massive things, stretching across the room behind him, the tips curling in slightly to brush along the walls. The feathers were a soft, slate gray, sleek and just the slightest bit dull. Here and there, you could see flecks of white against the gray backdrop; it brought to mind starlight poking through stormclouds. Occasionally, a feather would be twisted the wrong way, or dangling from the rest of the wing. There were patches of feathers that were missing or broken, angry wounds left from Crowley’s cruel treatment. It broke your heart and filled you with a cold rage to see them.

Finally managing to tear your eyes away from the magnificent sight, you noted the look of uncertainty and self-consciousness on Samandriel’s face. Smiling gently, you got up off the bed to stand before him. He’d removed his shirt to reveal his wings and you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Taking his face gently with both hands, you stroked your thumbs along his cheekbones, whispering reassurances. “They’re beautiful, Samandriel. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He shut his eyes, absorbing your words. The slightest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you for your kinds words. I fear they aren’t what they used to be. They will mend, with time.”

You stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying each other’s presence, before you delicately cleared your throat. Stepping away from him, you asked, “So, how do you want to do this? You want to sit on the bed and I can kneel behind you? Or do you want to lie down instead?”

He deliberated a moment. “I believe lying down would be most efficient, if that’s alright with you. I should be able to stretch them more fully that way.”

You shrugged, gesturing to the bed. “Sounds good to me. Hop on up and let’s get started.”

Samandriel complied, lying face down and propping his chin up on your pillows. Thinking about it for a moment, you shrugged and grabbed the bottle of massage oil from your bathroom before climbing in behind him. Moving to straddle his hips, you sprinkled some oil onto your hands and rubbed them together to warm them up. He stretched out his wings as much as possible and you got to work on the left side, raking your hands through the silky feathers as gently as possible. You went slowly, adjusting any that were out of place and pulling free those that were about to fall out.

An easy silence filled the room that neither of you attempted to fill. Your sole focus was Samandriel’s wings. You worked your way in from the wingtip to his back, marveling at the fact that you were grooming an honest to goodness angel- the life of a hunter was never dull. You tugged a little harder than intended on a particularly snarled patch of feathers, eliciting a loud yelp from the angel. “Ah, shit!” you cried, immediately pulling away from his wings. “I’m sorry, Samandriel, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“No,” he said a little breathlessly, “it’s alright. It didn’t hurt; it was just unexpected. I’m fine- it feels good. Very good. Please continue.”

“If you’re sure…” you replied skeptically. You were a little reluctant to go on, unused to hearing Samandriel like that. He said he wasn’t in pain, but you had your doubts. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him. Taking him at his word and picking up where you left off, you combed through his feathers much more gently, reluctant to use too much pressure. Samandriel let out a soft sigh at your delicate touch.

Just as you reached the area where his wings connected to his back, Dean burst into your room. “Hey now, who’s yelling in here? There better not be any hanky-panky going on.”

You and Samandriel both froze, caught off guard by his abrupt appearance. Apparently, his shouting had been louder than you realized. Flushing as Dean’s words sank in, you stuttered out a protest, “It’s- we’re not- it’s not like that, you perv! I’m helping Samandriel with his wings!”

The angel drew his wings in slightly, and you remembered his insecurities about them. Dean just stood there gaping and you reached for the closest thing at hand, throwing the bottle of oil at him. “Get out,” you ordered, the oil hitting him in the stomach with an oof. “Out, Winchester!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going jeez. Just…keep it down alright.”

Of course, he had to get in one last parting shot, gesturing between you and Samandriel and waggling his eyebrows at you. You climbed off the bed, stomping over to the door and slamming it shut in his face, locking it just in case. Your face was burning as you turned back, meeting Samandriel’s confused gaze.

“Are you alright?” he inquired softly.

Sighing gustily, you replied, “Yea, I’m okay.”

“I don’t understand what Dean meant,” he said. “What is ‘hanky-panky’?”

Flushing even more, you avoided his eyes as you crawled back into bed to straddle him once more, determinedly starting on the other wing. “Don’t worry about it- he’s just being an ass.”

“If you say so…” he replied a tad uncertainly.

The relaxed atmosphere was gone now, thanks to Dean’s interruption. Your face burned at his implications. You’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it before, but you’re priority had always been helping Samandriel recover, not stripping him down and having your way with him. Shaking your head to clear it of any salacious thoughts, you fixed your attention on grooming. The only saving grace was that Samandriel was completely clueless when it came to human slang.

You were so determined to ignore the awkward air that settled over the two of you, that it took a few minutes to register the low, continuous hum echoing throughout the room. Looking around in confusion, you continued absentmindedly raking through the now gleaming feathers, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. It was only when you paused your ministrations that it dawned on you, the hum cutting off abruptly as Samandriel shifted beneath you.

“Samandriel, is…is that you?”

“Yes,” he admitted, voice a little strained, almost guilty. “That feels very, very good and my vessel is reacting.”

“Ah, I see- like a really good massage.”

Mystery solved, you went back to work grooming his wing. Samandriel didn’t try to stifle his noises as much this time, the occasional sigh or groan slipping past his lips. Though you tried to ignore them, there was no denying that grooming was having an effect on you too. Your core began to tingle the louder and more frequent the noises got, pulse fluttering when you noticed his fingers digging into your pillows, the soft material beginning to tear under the strain.

When you tugged a little rougher on his feathers, Samandriel let out a small whimper, squirming under you again. Suspicious now, you gave another experimental pull, studying his reaction. He didn’t disappoint- his cry coming a little louder, his hips thrust into the bed slightly. With a start, you realized he was getting off on this. When he said it felt good, he meant it felt 'good'. You took a moment to process this unexpected turn of events, continuing to run your fingers through the feathers.

“Samandriel…” you trailed off; what could you possibly say? Watching him get turned on was turning you on too? “Are you- are you okay with this?”

“Please,” he whimpered out. “It feels- hnnng- it feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“You sure?” You’d never heard him so sound breathless, so needy. But if this was what the angel wanted, then you were fully prepared to provide.

“Yes,” he panted out. “Yes, I’m sure. Please, keep going.”

“Okay, Samandriel. Just…if you want me to stop at any time, tell me.” God, you hoped he didn’t want you to stop. You massaged the base of his wing, increasing the pressure of your fingertips along the velvety structure. You could actually feel the full body shudder that went through him.

“Ohhhh,” Samandriel moaned under you, stifling the noise as best he could in your pillows.

His hips rutted softly into the bed, seeking out friction. A thrill of lust went through you at the sound, your breathing heavy as you felt yourself grow slick. You weren’t even subtle about your teasing anymore, shamelessly trailing your hands over his wings, seeking out all the little places that made him moan the loudest. The slippery walls of your channel pulsed in time to your pounding heart, panties growing damp with each sound he made.

The first whisper soft caress on your skin caught you off guard. With a startled yelp, you pulled away from his wings, looking around to see what touched you. Samandriel let out a whining protest, glazed eyes looking at you over his shoulder. You forgot momentarily about whatever it was that touched you when you saw the lust burning in those baby blues. He arched underneath you, wings pressing insistently against your hands.

“Is something wrong?” he asked huskily.

“I felt- I don’t know what I felt actually. Something brushed my leg.”

Comprehension dawned on his face. “Oh. That was me I’m afraid, the real me. My grace…what you’re doing makes it difficult to control.”

“That was you? The actually, legit angel of the Lord, not just a vessel?” The thought of arousing the angel so much he simply couldn’t hold back his true self was thrilling.

“Yes. I’m sorry if it frightened you.”

“It didn’t scare me, just surprised me is all. It’s…if you want to do it again, I won’t mind.”

Samandriel fell silent, studying you intently. He took in you parted lips, the way your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, how you tried to press your thighs together despite his body being in the way. Swallowing hard, he nodded to himself and your view tilted in a whirl of feathers. When the world righted itself, Samandriel was splayed on top of you, his deceptively heavy body pinning you to the mattress, those gorgeous wings arched high overhead to shelter you both.

“Is this…alright?” he asked hesitantly.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yea, this is more than alright.”

“I have longed for you,” the angel admitted shyly, “longed to feel you, to touch you and know your touch in return. When I told you earlier that angels help groom each other, I may have neglected to mention that it is an incredibly intimate act.”

“Angelic foreplay, huh? That’s…really hot actually.”

“Then you accept me? Accept this,” he punctuated his words with a sharp thrust.

“Let’s uh, let’s play it by ear,” you panted out.

Notched tight between your legs, the way he was pressed against you made thinking nearly impossible. Especially when he started grinding what felt like a pretty impressive erection against your heat, the firm ridge of his cock rubbing your clothed clit perfectly. You bucked up into the touch, hands reaching for his wings once more. The glossy feathers slipped beneath your fingertips like silk, drawing another moan from the angel.

Samandriel’s head fell to the crook of your neck, those plush lips pressing a timid kiss to your skin. When you let out an encouraging moan, he did it again with more force, kisses growing more heated as the two of you writhed against one another. His grace wrapped around your body, cradling you in a sense of security even as he wound you up tighter. He teased you with it, your clothes proving to be no obstacle as it stroked down your body.

He finally slotted his mouth over yours just as his grace found your breasts, his eager tongue lapping at the seam of your lips even as grace enveloped your nipples. Your cry was swallowed as he mapped out the contours of your mouth. It wasn’t the best kiss you’ve ever had- just a hint too much tongue- but right now you it hardly mattered; the way he kept rutting into you more than made up for it.

Your hands wandered across his back until you found that ridge where the wing sprouted from. Remembering his earlier reaction, you massaged the velvety structure, gasping into his mouth when he harshly bucked into you. The grace toying with your breasts formed lips, sucking on your nipples greedily as more of it traced random patterns into your skin. When you squeezed the base of his wings, he reared up with a growl, breaking the kiss and leaving his wings just out of reach.

Grace wiggled past your panties, zeroing in on the aching bundle of nerves crying out for attention. It latched on, suckling vigorously as Samandriel’s thrusts grew more desperate, more frenzied. Even the layers of clothes separating your bodies couldn’t dull the build up in your core. You were so fucking close you could taste it, your pussy crying out for that last little something to send you to heaven.

As if he heard you, a tendril of grace pushed its way inside, sliding and coiling against your walls, wiggling deeper into your channel. You groaned at the stretch of it, Samandriel’s grace fucking and filling you just right. Everytime he thrust forward with his hips, his grace would draw back, the coil of need pulling tighter with every move. Forcing your eyes open, unsure of when you closed them, you met Samandriel’s gaze.

His eyes burned with the light of grace, his attention unwavering as he devoured your every expression, every shudder and moan. And just like that you were coming, head thrown back amongst the pillows as you gasped out his name like a prayer. Your panties clung to you, the cotton sticky with your slick as your orgasm went on. Samandriel was unrelenting in his pursuit of your pleasure, neither his grace nor hips faltering in their harsh rhythm.

Reaching blindly, you managed to grab a handful of feathers, tugging hard as you squeezed your walls down around his grace. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, back arching as he climaxed, the front of his jeans growing damp with come. It was breathtaking to see this angel- a soldier of God- come apart in your arms, aftershocks rolling through your sensitive pussy as he gradually slowed the frantic pace of his hips and grace. At long last, he lay still above you, both of you panting to catch your breath as you floated down from your highs.

Your phone dinged, startling you both. Samandriel reluctantly rolled off of you, his wings fading from sight so he could sprawl on his back. Distracted by the sight of a half-naked, fucked out angel in your bed, you forced yourself to focus. Fumbling for your phone, you dragged it out from where it’d fallen under your bed. The screen flashed with a text from Dean.

'New rule, if there’s gonna be loud angel sex going on, don’t lie about it and give us some warning next time. Me and Sammy are at the bar- it’s gonna take a barrel of whiskey to forget what we heard.'

A snort slipped out, your face burning with embarrassment even as peals of laughter broke free. Samandriel gave you a curious look, taking the phone when you handed it to him. When he looked up from the message, there was a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“It seems that we have the bunker to ourselves for the time being.”

Catching on immediately, you nodded slowly, your body already gearing up for another round, hopefully one with less clothes. “Looks like it angel.”

He gripped your waist, rolling over so you straddled him. “I’m glad- I fear my wings may need more attention than I thought. Someone has tangled them all up again.”

“You know I’m always willing to lend a hand.”

Squealing as he flipped you beneath him, you ran your hands down his back where his wings had once been, reveling in the little moan he gave. It was going to be a very long night.


End file.
